Out of Character
by noitish
Summary: He tries to look nonchalant and lets me kiss him softly.


A little gapfiller for 3.14. PWP really, I guess.

**Out of Character**

"Noble?" He quips.

"Out of character." I correct him. I'm awed. I ask him what made him do it.

"Some asshole told me that if you believe in something strongly enough you have to be willing to sacrifice everything."

There's no words to describe how much I love him at this very moment. I always love him so much that my heart's _this_ close to exploding from it. Right now? In his quiet bedroom a nuclear bomb just went off.

He tries to look nonchalant and lets me kiss him softly. I know he knows how fucking impressed I am with him, but for once he doesn't go all smug and cocky and self-satisfied like I half-expect him to. He has a habit of sabotaging any sincere praise coming his way (that have nothing to do with sex or his looks) by beating people to the punch and acting like an egotistical prick that everyone takes him for, including himself. For us who know better it can be incredibly frustrating. But now, he just kisses me back and I love him even more for it.

His lips are soft and pliant against mine. I sweep the tip of my tongue along his full lower lip and graze it gently with my teeth. He breathes hot air in my mouth, which makes me want to crawl inside his. And I try to, I really do. The soft, easy kisses are gone as soon as our tongues touch, and even though his hand has found its way to the back of my neck and he's pulling me closer, I find myself pressing my mouth against his so hard it hurts. Still not close enough.

He's sliding his hand down my back when he suddenly stops. I raise my head a little to see his face.

"Why the fuck do you still have your coat on?"

I just smile and get up. I kick my sneakers off and let my coat fall on the floor. He's on his back, leaning on his elbows, watching me. I can see he's hard but he's not reaching for me, he's not peeling his own clothes off, he's just lying there, watching me. There's something in his eyes that I wasn't expecting. He has lost his job, he's maxed out five gold cards and sold most of his furniture and he's _calm_. He's not freaking out. He's not trying to prove his masculinity by ripping my clothes off and fucking me hard and fast. He looks oddly peaceful. And impossibly beautiful.

I pull my shirt over my head and he gives me a soft smile.

"C'mere" He whispers and I crawl back on the bed, climbing on top of him. He lets me unbutton his shirt, then sits up a little so I can slide it off his shoulders. It feels like the time has stopped. The loft is quiet although it's 4 o'clock in the afternoon and we're sitting there on our bed (fine, _his_ bed) shirtless. I'm straddling him and I can feel his hard cock against my crotch, but at the moment he just keeps looking me in the eyes as his thumb traces slow circles against my cheek.

I lean against his palm and turn my head a bit so I can kiss the thumb that's caressing me. The way he is acting scares me a little. It's so... out of character. I almost laugh as I think that. Well, at least it fits the picture.

His chestnut hair seems auburn in the afternoon sun. I run my fingers through his hair and press my lips against his. The touch of his hand on my face becomes more forceful as his tongue coaxes my mouth open. I greet his tongue with my own, ever so gently, but I hear a soft moan that I don't think is coming from me. A part of me wants to pull away and ask if he's okay; even in throes of passion he always maintains a level of control over himself, never allows himself to be completely open and therefore vulnerable. But the way he is now... He's really here. All of him. With me.

"Brian..." I sigh, and he looks at me again, his eyes so open and expressive it makes me want to cry. But I don't. Instead, I push him back so he's lying down and start kissing his chest. I love the way he tastes, love his smooth skin, love the flutter of his muscles under my lips, love the twist of his fingers in my hair when my tongue is circling his navel and my hands undo his button fly.

I bury my face in his crotch, just inhaling his scent. Musky and sweet and familiar and intoxicating. I'm about to take him into my mouth when he's suddenly tugging my arm and whispering my name. He pulls me back up the bed and flips us over. He's sucking my tongue inside his mouth and I don't even realize I'm completely naked until his lips are pressed firmly around the head of my cock and my legs are up on his shoulders.

He's taking his sweet time blowing me, clearly determined not to allow me release but to keep me on the edge until I lose my mind. He's humming and swallowing around me. I make noises that sound barely human. He pushes his hands under me and starts kneading my ass cheeks, spreading them, and I can feel my hole quiver with anticipation. His mouth leaves my dick and I try to catch his eye so I can beg him silently, but his eyes are fixed on my ass. His mouth is hanging open a little and for a second I'm sure the look on his face is gonna make me come.

Then his soft, wet tongue is probing my entrance and I fear I'll never regain my sanity if he continues doing that and not bury his cock inside me and let me come. He pushes his tongue in me along with a spit slick finger, soon followed by a second and a third finger. I can hear him panting like he's about to come although it's been a while since his cock got any well deserved attention.

"Fuckmefuckmefuckbrifuckgod..."

I'm blind when I finally feel the tip of his cock pushing in. He's stretching me, entering too fucking slowly. I use my legs to pull him closer, deeper, and then he's there and I'm full. I open my eyes to find his dark hazel orbs staring back at me only inches away.

"I love you." I hadn't meant to say it. I try not to say it too much so I don't piss him off. But I fucking mean it. He answers by angling his thrusts against my prostate.

Very much in character.


End file.
